


Various Bad Boys and you!

by TheDreamsOfGarbage



Category: Candle Cove, Creepypasta - Fandom, Gravity Falls, Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies), Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Do I make any of the OOC?, Feel free to fave, Feel free to give creative criticizm, First story on here, God I hate this work so much, Hope you like!, I think I do make them OOC, Literally garbage, originally on quotev
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 05:51:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6643942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDreamsOfGarbage/pseuds/TheDreamsOfGarbage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am assuming you want or have wanted to date certain fictional characters before. Here there is a few, some of which are popular, and others who don't have much fanfiction for them. In this collection, you can find Kevin from Night Vale, Bill Cipher, Horace Horrible from Candle cove, Freddy Kreuger from a Nightmare on Elm Street, and Jeff the Killer. I hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You meet

Jeff: It was a dark and stormy night, quite frankly. You were trying to stumble home from a friends house, where you'd been watching horror movies, and your parents called, saying you needed to come home before the storm hit. Well, here it was, and it seemed you were right in the thick of it. You kept on trekking home, though. You knew it would be dangerous, but your mom's fury would take you out before this.  
You make the turn onto your street (FINALLY!). There's someone running towards you from the far end of the street. You don't bother stopping to wait for them to catch up. They could be anyone, honestly.  
You rush inside, out of the rain, and away from the mysterious stranger. They watch you walk in.

Freddy: You were at the local roller-rink with your best friends. You were no good out on the skate floor, but you were killing it at the arcade games the place had! You turned left and right with the ball as you played the pinball machine version of A Nightmare on Elm Street. You bounced the marble off of a rubber circle and gasped as you watched it shoot for Freddy's face. That's what gave you the high score for the game! You attracted a following who watched you go from game to game, and they loudly cajoled.  
You laughed like it was nothing and left to meet up with your friends again, even though you felt kind of explosive with joy.  
"Hey, (Y/N)! Put on your skates and celebrate with us out on the rink!"  
You normally weren't one to succumb to peer pressure, but the adrenaline from winning was making you shake, so you just threw on your skates and went out there.  
It was a mistake.  
You slid like you were barefoot on ice instead of where you were, in what you are. You were being dragged along by your friends now. Two had your hands, pulling you forward like they were the rubber bands of a sling-shot, and one was behind, close enough to not get out of the way if you fell.  
Which you did.  
It was quick, with almost cartoon-like speed. One moment your friends had you, and the next, you were face down by the side of the rink. You get up a minute later. No one's here anymore, for some reason. They must have all left to get help. You try to pull yourself up using the metal fence on the side. It burned the heck out of your hand  
"Ouch! What the f-"  
You heard laughter. It was deep, and close, too close to not be seen.  
Then, suddenly, almost as if it were just a dream, you were back where you were, with a concussion and broken leg to take care of.

Horace Horrible: You were at the beach, sunbathing. Your parents owned it, so there wasn't any perverts to ogle you or children to fling sand at you. This was actually really nice!  
You began to really unwind, getting a soda, pillow, and towel to lie down.  
You fell asleep, of course.  
You awoke again out of your dreamless-sleep in the dark. It must have been cloudy, because there were no lights to guide you across the winding path through the steep dunes and sharp sand grasses.  
"Dang it". You didn't even bring your phone with you. You had to either find your way there blindly, and likely get too many cuts to walk tomorrow, or wait out here until the clouds clear.  
You stay. You begin to see the dunes a few minutes later, and the distant horizon next.  
"Yes!" you cheer. Even thought the beach is fenced off, it creeped you out to be so exposed at night.  
You take a good, long scan of the distance. The moon peeked some of its light from behind the clouds to give you a detailed look.  
There was a pirate ship not a hundred yards from where you were. A freaking pirate ship, complete with a huge, white sail and a front piece shaped like a crying mermaid.  
You just stare in confusion for a minute. What's a pirate ship doing on the beach of your average senior citizens of your country?  
You also notice a smaller boat coming close to your beach.  
That's when the realization hits that it's probably better to run from a pirate than to stare. You glance at the people within the smaller boat. One seems to have a classic little boy's sailor hat. Another has some deformities or something so their head looked almost like a fly's. The one in the very front had a disturbingly large smile and a mustache to top it off. You make a run for the house after they notice you.

Bill: It's a classic school day. The sun is shining, the wind is cold, and everyone there seemed to want someone to just die. In other words, it sucked. You were in the middle of math class to finish off the mountain of crap you had to deal with already.  
"blah blah blah blah blah numbers blah bleh blih blah blah future blah blah..."  
This has been going on for almost an hour now. You get to leave soon, but right now, you'd give almost anything to get out of here.  
You lay your head down on the desk and just lay. You don't even listen to the constant drone that the teacher was giving out. You feel like you almost fell asleep.  
You sit up probably only a minute later and open your eyes. The room is strangely colourless. That doesn't strike you as very odd at first. this school is so joyless, it sucks the joy and youth out of children. Why not the colour out of papers?  
It was when you saw a light in the shape of a triangle float over the board that you realized you actually did fall asleep.  
This shocks you almost enough to wake you up. Also, someone flicked a rubber band into your cheek. You spring up, and see that everyone else already left.  
You just shake off that dream and continue on with your day.

Kevin: You've been lost for days. Weeks, maybe. Time is very weird where you came from.  
You see, just what looked like last night, you were wandering the streets unattended, just like law 472 says not to do, for you could "anger the hooded figures,".  
You scoffed, not believing in the hooded one's ever present affect until you found yourself being dragged into the Dog Park, immobile, by one.  
They threw you in and, for all you knew, left you to die. When you could move again, you could see that you were in some kind of eternal pocket dimention hidden in the huge, obsidian walls of the most dangerous area in the city-besides the library, obviously.  
Anyway, you've no need for water or food somehow, but seeing anything besides the flat never-ending white of the desert would be a blessing, whether it was just a small glass of water, or the terrifying neighbor city of...  
Desert Bluffs!  
It's there! On the horizon!  
You give a weak hoot of joy and continue your stumble forward.  
When you finally walk into town an hour later, you flop onto the nearest bench. It has a small portable radio sitting on it.  
"Man, I wish I could hear the news... Or some music. Literally anything from public radio."  
That major comfort from Night Vale would always automatically be played on all radios, or broadcasted directly into citizens brains, so it felt wrong to not hear news every couple of hours.  
Suddenly, the switches and dials flick about on the little radio, looking to be trying to tune into a station.  
"... An... Desert Blu... "  
It stops twitching.  
"Hello, Desert Bluffs! Today is yet another bright and sunny day in our beautiful little burg!"  
You smile weakly. The comforts of home aren't quite perfect, but at least they had a bench with a magic radio on it that tuned to whatever station you wanted to hear.  
Their town's radio announcer sounded so pleasant and uplifting, you sat up and stared at the radio for the rest of the show, gleefully listening to this chipper counterpart to Cecil talk about public going-ons.


	2. You exchange a few words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the person talk some more

Jeff: Today you decided to walk to the local store. It was a gorgeous fall day, with crunchy leaves fluttering like butterflies to the ground and cute Halloween decorations at every other house. One seemed to get extremely creative.  
It was written down by most as the old, dilapidated house all neighborhoods have. Windows were broken, the driveway was riddled with trash, and the door was spray-painted with obscene words and symbols at almost all times, even though someone came by and painted over it once a week.  
Heck, it could have gone as a haunted house back then.  
That was before someone purchased it last week.  
They seemed to take extreme mercy on the house. The glass gleamed. The door was paint-free. Even the drive way, which could have had quick sand in it for all you knew, was cleaned off and had a used car parked in it.  
Beside that, the owner appeared to be a wonderful decorator! They had spider webs all around in the tree, a knife stuck in its trunk, and what looked like a dead body lying under both!  
You giggled with glee at their spooky decorations and started up the drive way to congratulate them.  
That's when things got weird.  
First off all, that body was actually really real looking. Too real. Their shirt fluttered around in the wind, their arms were bruised on the underside, and the eyes were cloudy, a lot like a real dead body.  
Second, you could see into the house from where you were next to their car. They had no furniture in the living room. They'd been there a week, and hadn't even bothered getting a chair or two for the room?  
Third, the smell. Like rotten meat.  
You stop where you are and consider the chances that you will make it away from there alive as you see the front door open.  
Some strange, awkwardly attractive and pale boy about your age stares down from their porch . They look from the body, to you, to the body, to you, and then again a few more times.  
"What do you think your doing, sweetheart?" he asks casually. You guess that if he's going to bring the situation to a relaxed tone, so will you.  
"I'm just here admiring your decorations! You did a great job!"  
He shrugs and goes back inside.  
What a strange neighbor.

Freddy: Due to last weeks venture into the dangerous lands of the local skating rink, you're bedridden and trapped in your house for a few days. Your friends visit often, saying sorry and watching movies with you, and some school kids came by, claiming they heard you had gone retarded from your trip, and all sorts of other insulting types of rumors and people.  
It was Monday. You were dozing off to some kids show, Gravity Falls, when you heard the laugh again. You could tell they would have a deep voice from how it sounded and, therefor, were probably a man. What you couldn't predict was that they would appear right behind you, on-No, AS your pillow.  
"Hey there, Honey." that creep hissed into your ear. "Did you have a nice trip? The last time I saw you, it didn't look like you were having fun."  
He laughs again. You call for your mother.  
He laughs at your struggles to get up, but, alas, you simply stumble and fall. Your working leg feels like jelly, and your other foot is still encased in a cast.  
He's howling and pointing now. His hand catches your attention.  
It has knives on it. FREAKING KNIVES.  
You panic a little and try to stand again. You stagger backwards, into a wall. You're shaking like a leaf, and the man approaches you.  
"Don't you worry, Honey. I'll be back soon enough."  
You awake in a panic and scream. You bring a hand up to your chest to find a paper there.  
"My name's Freddy. What's yours, (Y/N)?" it says in a child's handwriting. What is wrong with this guy?

Horace Horrible: You're back on the beach again, this time in shorts and a t-shirt. That last experience was weird, but you've put it off as a dream or mirage. It's late again, but you've installed lights back there so that none of the ocean's mysteries can taunt you anymore.  
You've been digging for hours now! It's hurting your back, but you've heard that pirates have buried some treasure here before, so, hey, why the heck not!?  
It's starting to get really late when you hear them again.  
"Ahoy there, lass! Ye need help with that?"  
It's that guy with the moustache! He has a strange yet attractive aura of sophistication put off by his clothes, which are in the style of a rich British pirate, and his hair, which is slicked back.  
No matter his attractiveness, you scream. Like, a lot. I'm kind of embarrassed for you, reader. Who screams at an actual gentlepirate offering you help with something? God, you're always like this.  
Anyway, his companions from the night before start getting out.  
The little boy in the hat looks normal enough, but the man with the strange-shaped head actually has the head of a fly.  
You scream.  
Again?  
I thought you were nicer.  
You don't notice, but a few tears begin building up around your eyes. You're not sad. Man, was I too mean? Wait, you're just frustrated at these weirdos.  
The sophisticated one pulls out a piece of fabric from a pocket. It's an elegantly decorated hankie, with the initials H. Horace embroided onto it.  
"It ain't used. We'll be on our way if you'll be like that."  
They leave as you settle down, get a drink, breath, those kinds of things.  
They're almost back in the main boat when you remember that that's someone else's hankie you used. Not even grossed out, you stand. You're unsure of how to return it to them, so you just wave it.  
You don't realize until Horace waves back that only the wives and girlfriends of sailors did that, but you can't take back a gesture. Sorry about that.

Bill: Today you're by the local pool, sunbathing. You're in that one rare spot that every pool has, just close enough to the shade and sun to move wherever you feel, far away from the pool enough to not get splashed, and near the snack bar. Today's gonna be great!  
You take full advantage of that. You get a Super Spicy dog from the S. B, relax in the shade for some time, then the sun, and just chill out.  
Oh, wait. That "Super Spicy " hot dog? It was spicy. Like, "I'll see you again soon" spicy.  
Gross.  
You look to the left and right before you dare leave your oasis. No one seems to be hunting for an innocent spot to take in the crowded mob, so you take your chance and go.  
Ugh, public pool restrooms. Atrocious.  
You come back a few minutes later and find your spot.  
Taken, that is.  
Some woman and three children crowd around it, clearly not caring that someone else was there before them.  
You don't feel like arguing, however. Your pool supplies well being can come before a fit of rage if it can be contained.  
And you do find them. They're actually pretty far. how could they move all your stuff with three kids to watch here in a few minutes?  
That doesn't matter. What does matter is that you are now parked in the middle of an extremely shady area. It's way too cool here on this already cool day! You just huff, though. Why cry over spilt milk, you think.  
Anyway, you get right back to sunbathing.  
When you open your eyes again, the world seems strangely colorless and dark. And everyone's gone. That's pretty weird. The weather was perfectly fine when you closed your eyes. There was about a couple hundred more people, as well.  
You blink, and not a moment after, a yellow triangle of light appeared in the clouds. Something descends from it.  
"Well, hey there, kiddo!"  
There's a...Floating...Triangle...?  
"You may not remember me too well. I saw you last week. At that hellish place. What do you call it?"  
He rolls his huge eye slowly in thought.  
"Oh yeah! School!"  
It scrolls around, looking at your stuff. They take your sunblock and squish it until it bursts.  
They laugh at the explosion as if it was comical.  
You panic suddenly, realizing what's happening and how strange this was for your dreams. You turn and face it head on and back away, off of your chair.  
There you are again. Back at the public pool, laying in someone's stuff.  
You shake the dream off for now, but keep it on mind. Maybe there's a hidden meaning?

Kevin: Now, things are back on track for you! I mean, you have a small apartment and a job at a McKee-Dee's, which isn't saying much, but hey, it's a start!  
You're actually pretty upset, to tell the truth. You miss the calming voice of Cecil, droning on peacefully about PYRAMIDS, or his boyfriend, or some crazy going-on somewhere in town. Here, the reporter, Kevin, went on about everyone always working and a few other very boing subjects. It sounds to you like he needs a life outside of work, or, at least, a date.  
But that wasn't really your problem. You're just tryin to climb into a better paying job, but since you technically don't exist here, it's pretty difficult!  
"So, that'll be an order of blood and a six-piece chicken nugget meal?"  
"Yup!"  
"Thank you."  
Your tone nowadays is turning kind of flat due to how much you're working.  
Anyway, the customer's just about to sit down when you ask, "Wait, what's your name? So we know who to give your meal to."  
"Oh! My name's Kevin!"  
"So you're the local radio announcer?" This strange, eyeless- oh, god, he's eyeless, you thought-, and surprisingly friendly looking guy was the most popular guy in town!  
He nods, walking back towards the seat he chose out.  
You had a pretty intrusive thought based around how he was kind of, maybe just a little, attractive.  
"Yeah, just a little", someone from the back of the store seemed to whisper. You brush it off as a good ignorer of strange events and call for Kevin.  
"Here!"  
"Anything else, sir?"  
"Oh, no thank you You're such a hard worker! What's your name..."  
He glares for a moment at your name tag. You can't really tell what it's supposed to say, but he says in a cheery tone a moment later, "(Y/N)! I believe we have an opening at the studio if you're looking for a job."  
You give a look of surprise for a moment. You haven't talked to anyone about how this job was temporary.  
"Sure. When could I come by for an interview?"  
"Wednesday, I believe."  
He looks at the clock next to the sign and adds, "I need to leave. How about you call me if you need to come in on another day?"  
He leaves. You watch him calmly meander into his car, taking a sip of his cup of blood and turning on the car, leaving.  
You look at the number. Nothing like this ever happened in Night Vale.


	3. A true conversation and a potential relationship

Jeff: Every day and moment shared by you two for weeks now have only been him waving down to you from his porch, and you yelling some variation of, "Hello," or some other basic greeting.  
Today's the day that changes, (Y/N)! You can thank the neighborhood bullies for that!  
They were chasing you down the street, yelling all the classic insults. Stupid. Fat. Slow.  
You were crying. You slipped on the turn down his street, the kid with the "abandon" house. He's nice enough! He might help!  
By now you were bleeding, crying, and had a migraine from overexertion. You find his house. It's only a few feet away now! Go, go Reader! We're rooting for yo-  
Oh, shit.  
A kid came up next to you and pushed you down, onto his lawn.  
That's not the worst area for this to happen, you think. They're all crowded around you now, yelling.  
They're being too loud for you to hear the front door open, but a moment later, they are all panicking and running away. You don't know what's happening, so you kind of just lie. It was the best thing you could do in that moment. Just lie there and stare at the sky in the cold and cooling fall weather. A few leaves hit your face.  
Suddenly, there's the strange, beautiful stranger standing above you.  
"Do you need some help there, sweetheart?" he says, offering a hand.  
You take it, and he helps you up.  
Now, imagine this. It's like a scene from a romantic anime. Brown leaves are falling like cherry petals and you two are looking each other in the face, probably seeing that they were your one true love all along or something romantic.  
"Thanks, neighbor."  
"Oh, my name's Jeff."  
"Well, thank you, Jeff. Is there any way I could repay you?"  
He gives a quizzical look. After a moment, he leans forward.  
He gave you a kiss.  
He gave you a kiss!  
HE GAVE YOU A KISS!  
YEAH!!  
"Just that, please," He leans closer as he says this, "That was more for you than me."  
He's heading inside now.  
"Now you can go home. I don't know what you're waiting around here for, (Y/N)."

Freddy: You're no longer bedridden, so what better way to celebrate than going to an ice cream parlor?  
You're finally truly happy again, having the major, potentially life changing choice of thirty two different flavors, tons of toppings, and five different kinds of cones.  
However, you settle down with the classic favorite with a twist, chocolate red velvet, with gummy bears on top, and a chocolate dipped cone.  
You're there with your parents and your three friends from the accident. You've forgiven them by now, so of course they had to come with you.  
Everyone's enjoying themselves. No one's being stimulated by their phones, either. It's one of those rare, fun moments that looks like it could be featured as an old timey picture if you guys put away anything invented in the last thirty years or so and had a camera that took those kinds of photos.  
You all laugh as one of the friends successfully tells a joke. You all go to lick your ice cream cones.  
You look around as you eat it, scanning the parlor. Only one person catches and holds your eyes.  
It's that creep from your dreams!? What's he doing, stalking you like some kind of overly attached girlfriend?  
What's he even doing in reality?  
You mumble about seeing a friend from school outside and go outside, with your cone.  
"Now, what do you think you're doing here, Freddy?" you yell at him intensely. He just smirks like a douchebag.  
"Just making sure that everything's going well. Or bad. I prefer things go bad." he says, just before taking your ice cream.  
"Hey, douchepants, that's stealing. you seriously need to stop!" you yell, watching him take a lick of it.  
"Well, if you wanted it so bad, here you go, bitch!"  
He tips it over, onto your face. It slid down, onto the ground, leaving a sweet mess all over your mouth.  
You can't move, you're so shocked by that rude gesture.  
"You said you wanted it back. If you don't want it I'll have it."  
He swiftly licks it off your mouth.  
Disgusting.  
Nice.  
What.  
"Well, I'll see you later, Honey."  
He walks off as you walk in. Your parents and friends greet you by asking if he's your boyfriend.

Horace: He said he'd be back, so you've been waiting at the beach, reading and digging and relaxing. Normal beach stuff.  
But...  
It's been a while now.  
Days.  
Weeks.  
Almost a month.  
You've been out there every day, waiting for the man and his strange looking friends to return so you can give this "Horace" back the hankie.  
You've cleaned it since then, and have been keeping it in a box.  
It's ornately decorated. Your grandparents had been known for handing out great gifts to the children of the family, and that's what you got one year.  
It has a small gold handle on each side. The lip of the lid is covered in sea glass, all the way to the hinges. And the entire thing is a gleaming white. It looks like something a mermaid would give you for saving them.  
Anyway, back in reality, you're not sure how to thank Horace for the strange gesture.  
"Thanks for giving me a glorified snot rag, here you go."?  
"Hey, technically you're illegally trespassing and you need to get your pirate ship out of here before I call the cops. Also, here's your hankie."?  
You also thought of just throwing it at him, but that didn't seem right, being how polite, if grammatically incorrect he was last time.  
Ugh! Polite people could be so difficult to talk to! If he were rude, you could say any one of those.  
But he had to be the greatest, nicest, and hottest pirate on your countries shoreline, and he had to talk to you!  
You sit down in a huff on the hot sand, carefully holding the fabric.  
Wait.  
Is that...  
YES!  
There it is! The main ship! It's on the horizon!  
You stand and cheer for a few minutes.  
Then you stop for a while because they're not close enough to hear. Also, you're being a little tsundere about your feelings.  
Then you silently say, "yes!" as you see the little boat release from the big vessel out onto the sea.  
When they finally step out of it, Horace says, "Ahoy, Lass! Long time no see!"  
Oh. Conversation. How does that work again?  
"Uh, yeah. Like, a month, right?"  
Seemingly confused, he glances around, and laughs.  
"We wouldn't know! When ya life belongs to the sea, time can be hard to keep!"  
He gives out a deep, hearty laugh. You just kind of flatly say "Ha" over a few times.  
You look down. "Well. here's your hankie."  
He's coming down from laughing as he says, "Naw, Lass. Keep it. It's a gift."  
The first gift you received from any wizard, supernatural creature, or pirate was a hankie. It's clean, but... Eh.  
Take what you can get, Reader!  
"Anyway, me and my crew," he gestures to Fly guy and the kid with the hat,"are here for treasure. have ye seen it?"  
"Oh. Uhm... I don't think so." you said slowly.  
He nods and says "Most buried treasure can't be seen."  
"But, uh, I'll help you find it!" You suddenly remembered how to speak.  
His eyes shine with some new recognition.  
"Alright, well, ye can't help today. We must be goin'"  
Your expression changes from a happy smile to the kind of frown that accompanies sudden disappointment.  
"Why do you have to leave so soon? Why'd you even come here, then?  
"I can't come by just to say hello to a pretty woman?"  
You feel like magic right about now. Like you could reach up and snap your fingers, and a flame would appear. Like you could simply breathe a choice word, and an army would fall.  
Like you could do anything.  
But you can't here. Someone would have to help you a little bit.  
Horace helps Fly Guy and the kid chart a few things on a map. You slowly shuffle through the wet sand towards them. Specifically Horace.  
"Oy, gurl. 'Ou gunna jump in o' leave?" said fly guy.  
Horace looked to you expectantly.  
You almost said yes. Your first thought said yes. Your heart said yes.  
But your parents.  
"I-I wish I could go. I need to stay with my parents."  
Horace looked as if he understood.  
They all got in the little boat. The waves were lapping up onto the edge of your shorts now, getting them wet.  
They were just about to push off when Horace said, "Let me just give ya a parting gift," before kissing you.  
Oh, reader! This was the push you needed! You felt as if you were flying! The clouds, that's where you would go first.  
Wait...  
What's tha-  
You really ARE floating!  
Horace takes note after a moment. You had already separated, but you were still there, lovestruck and floating like a bird.  
He just laughed, in a polite way.  
"Must be magick in ye. Either that or ya got some of my magic."  
You begin to float back down to our world, metaphorically and literally.  
"Wait, you have magic!?" you shout at them. They'd only just pushed off, but they were leaving fast.  
"I'll show ya next time we meet!"  
Ah, love.

Bill: Okay. You're prepared for this weird dream creep now.  
It's been six days and eighteen hours since you last slept. You've been watching T.V. and going on your computer in the mean time.  
Right now, through the coffee-indused blur going on on your eyes, you think it's the T.V. death scene from A Nightmare on Elm Street 3:Dream Warriors.  
"It's Prime time, Bitch!" screeched Freddy before plunging that poor girl through her old-timey television.  
You giggle. That's not too far off from your current scenario!  
Your laughter dies almost instantly. That's not far off from your current scenario.  
What if that happened to you?  
"You're right, kid! That'd be traumatic!" yelled that triangle into your ear.  
You panic and fly to the right, away from him.  
"It's been a while, hasn't it?"  
You stare.  
He stares back.  
"Sheesh, kid! If you're not going to talk, I can just squeeze the words outta you."  
That threat scares you.  
"Yeah. That was a good while."  
You can see him slowly get more pissed as the conversation goes on.  
"Ha! Well, what've you been doing in the mean time?"  
he's trying to flirt. That's obvious from his laid back position and half-lidded eye, which was actually quite terrifying due to it's size.  
"I've been watching this dream thing do a better job than you," you answered, gesturing to Dream Warriors.  
He's kinda red by now.  
"Hm. That's a pretty politically inaccurate opinion. Anywho, I know you've been reading books since I last saw you. What one are you on?"  
It's actually wedged between the couch cushions, but he doesn't know that. You think.  
"Sure. Let me go get it."  
He lays back like you're going to feed him fancy grapes, when really you're getting the biggest, heaviest hardcover you have.  
It's a copy of some photography book, titled "Odyssey: Photography at National Geographic"  
It's great and all, but you're sure that if the author knew of how the book was about to be used, they'd say go for it, and maybe add on some sharp thing.  
"I'm-BACK!"  
You whacked him in the eye with it when he turned to look at you. He starts flipping and flying backwards, yelling, " Woah, woah, woah, woah!"  
He stops.  
He stares.  
Suddenly, like a volcano, he erupts.  
He's red and big. He grabs you in some sort of force field and yells, " What did you think that would accomplish, mortal girl? Do you have any idea how pointless that was? I could kill you right now, in any way that this," he's making air quotes," 'Superior Dream Demon' could! I would do it better, in fact!"  
He drops you, thankfully, right back onto the couch. You're terrified. You're quivering.  
You're crying.  
A tear that dared to break its way away rolls down your check. You're worried your pain would only make him angry, so you try to suck it up.  
He's facing the other wall. When he turns, you can tell he's trying to hide that he's upset he hurt you.  
"Oh, I scared you, did I?"  
He floats back down to the ground.  
"Well, I'm sorry about that. I can't have any humans bad mouthing me to each other."  
He nods, and says, " Well, you're leaving now. Bye."  
You wake, back on your couch, just in time to see the credits for your movie. You shake your head, getting all the sleepy feeling off.  
Geez, I wanted to see the end of the movie!

Kevin: Ok.  
Animal hair free formal outfit?  
Check.  
Decent amount of makeup?  
Check.  
Dab of perfume?  
Don't mind if you do.  
You believe you're fully prepared for the interview. You've been so fidgety, though, you're carrying a stress squeezer in your bag.  
Nonetheless, you get a taxi and ride to the Desert Bluffs Radio Studio. You stop to admire the statue of a man screaming at the sky while holding a bundle of snakes that was in front of the studio before entering. It was wonderfully artistic, and you believed it showed what we owe to the lights hovering high in the midnight sky very well.  
As you walk through the front doors of the squat red brick building, you begin to see the differences between here and home. For instance, the blood.  
It was everywhere.  
From splattered and tossed on the walls, to dripping down the receptionist. They seemed to not notice it.  
They regard you as they would a meal when they look up.  
"Got an appointment?" they bellow. You can't tell if they're male or female.  
"U-um, yeah, a, uh,-"  
"(Y/N)!"  
Never before had you been so grateful to see Kevin.  
He looks to the receptionist to say, "It's alright, Allama," their name didn't really help you distinguish," they're with me."  
They shrug while Kevin takes your hand and leads you down a dark hallway.  
A quiet, distant humming rattles throughout his office, starting behind the shaded window.  
"So, (Y/N), how hard of a worker are you exactly?"  
The buzzing begins to move, sliding around the outer walls of the room in impossible ways. You look at the area it seemed to be, on the upper left wall. In the dimly lit room, the walls looked to be dripping, or, even worse, oozing some dark fluid.  
"(Y/N)?"  
"Oh, um, yeah! I normally love to work." Whoops. That was a minor lie. "I also have great people skills,", You once stomped on someone's hand because they picked up your pencil that you dropped, "amazing sanitation habits," , you wore the same pants for four days before, "and a (High School or College) diploma." At least the last one wasn't a lie.  
He nods and begins blabbing about business or other as you track the noise. It begins sliding down the wall, heading beneath your feet. You lift them a bit, as a small child would, still staring at approximately where you thought the object/creature was.  
"...And we'll need to keep track of all emotions, thoughts, and cats you pet as well..."  
It was heading towards the wall behind you, towards the door you entered through.  
You felt a terrible urge to spring up and throw it open. There was no plan on what to do then. You didn't know if you would hit, scream, hug, shake hands with, or just panic at whatever's been irritating you.  
You listen to this terrible impulse, springing up, fluttering some papers off of Kevin's desk, and open the door.  
There's another man there, wearing a suit, holding a clip-board, and dripping blood from orifices all over his left arm.  
"Hello, Kevin! It's great to see that you're training our latest happy helper here," the new stranger says, holding out his hand.  
You kind of stare at it for a moment, wondering how he went from being a buzzing cloud traveling through walls to a lightly gored man.  
"So, you'll start tomorrow?"  
You're surprised at what Kevin's boss just said. You weren't done being interviewed. Heck, you weren't interviewed!  
"Oh, uh, sure! I'll be ready for work tomorrow!"  
Kevin smiles wider and gives you a thumbs up as his boss, Namtar (According to his name tag) walks you out, continuing Kevin's speech on how work is done in Desert Bluffs.  
Kevin pokes his head out of his room, and you see him, briefly illuminated from behind by the lights in the entrance hall as if there is a fire directly behind him before turning a corner and losing him for now.


	4. He asks you out!

Jeff: You two have been hanging out a little bit ever since the accident. You just go to anywhere to talk and maybe play a game. You've been to the local arcade, the library, and today you were at the local ice cream parlor.  
"Woah, look at that couple outside."  
You turned around, and, sure enough, there was some red guy and who was presumably their girlfriend in a fight. He took her ice cream, and she yelled louder. Something about him being a douche pants.  
"Haha, I bet they're going through a pretty tough break up," you say, turning around.  
Jeff's there, intent on you, licking your ice cream.  
"Hey, Jeff. That's stealing! You seriously need to stop!" you say, clearly mocking the girl before she comes within earshot.  
"Well, if you want it so bad, here you go, sweetheart!" He gives you back your ice cream.  
You two laugh and get back to eating.  
After a few minutes, Jeff seems to try to spark a conversation.  
"Hey, (Y/N)?"  
"Yeah?"  
"...Never mind..."  
That was kind of strange. Jeff normally likes to get straight to his point, always seemingly sure of what's going to happen, and what he's going to say.  
However, maybe there was something bothering him. It...Kind of sounded like it was about you.  
If anyone were to look at you two, they might say, "What a sweet couple!" They might think, though, "Are they mad at each other? Did one of them lie?"  
Both would have been totally appropriate opinions to simultaneously have.  
You continue. You eat. You pay. You leave.  
You say goodbye.  
"Well, bye, Jeff."  
"Bye, (Y/N)"  
This is the time if you want to ask him about what he was going to say earlier, Reader! Go ahead! Run up to him, and demand to know what was on the tip of his tongue, besides ice cream.  
"Wait, Jeff I-"  
He was gone.  
You looked around. On the ground there is only trash and a note.  
"(Y/N), we've been friends for a while. Why not see me at the fireworks display this Friday?"  
Man, this guy's your man.

Freddy: It was obvious by your latest trip to the local ice cream parlor that you weren't safe from Freddy when you were awake or asleep, so you're on a healthy schedule, waking and sleeping at normal times. Sometimes you would see him out of the corner of your eye, watching you as you went shopping or rode a unicorn into the sunset. It's actually succeeding at creeping you out. It's really starting to get aggravating, as well. You want to reach over, grab the collar of his sweater, bring him really, really close, and ask him what he thinks he's doing.  
Tonight's the night, actually. You just finished your homework at almost 12. You're dead tired, and fall asleep almost instantly upon laying down.  
You're in some amazing, strange forest. The trees are tall, coppery, and seem to end in the distant eternity of the sky, and the ground has iridescent mushrooms all over it. The sky is incredibly dark, yet somehow light jumps from tree to tree, from mushroom to mushroom.  
You wander and run between the trees, throwing thought and care to the wind.  
Then you see him.  
He's leaning on a tree lazily, as if he's been waiting for a while and you're late.  
"Hey, Honey." he says just loud enough for you to hear.  
Suddenly, as if he said a magic word or flipped a light switch, the light coming from nowhere disappeared, leaving you sightless and, therefor, defenseless, in the presence of some sort of demon.  
You go to hold onto a tree to your left, but there's nothing there. You fall, clothes flapping in the wind and a scream on your face.  
That absolute idiot turned your perfectly nice dream into a nightmare for no reason! Why would he do that?  
You fall...  
And fall...  
And fall...  
Until you land on something. It's kind of rough, but soft, like some old cloth that needs to be washed.  
"You thought you'd get away from me?" they growl.  
It's Freddy.  
Uh-oh.  
He sets you down mostly gently, but the claws rip the side of your shirt.  
"Look what you did!" you exclaim.  
He rolls his eyes and slides his other hand over it, apparently fixing it.  
"So, why am I here?"  
He gives you a weird look expressing, a silent "Wouldn't you like to know," and walks away. Ugh. Talking to him's like talking to a cat.  
You follow him, being that you have never had any dreams you controlled, and he was basically the lord of that.  
Now you're in this strange boiler room.  
Ah, wait.  
This is his boiler room.  
He's out of sight, and there seems to be too much steam and too many ways to safely follow. You turn around-  
-You run right into him.  
You scream. He takes your dominant hand, gently but firmly, with his unclawed hand and drags you somewhere.  
"No! Let me go, you -"  
You were getting very explicit. I'm sorry that this story is no longer fully accurate, but I don't want any younger patrons to read what you said.  
You two turn a few corners. Once, you burn your shoulder on a pipe, which earns a small shriek from you.  
Freddy looks back to check that you're not profoundly bleeding and continues forward.  
One more corner, and there's a door.  
Oh, geez.  
He opens the door. You're both in there now, and it's...  
A roller rink!?  
THE roller rink??  
You stare in confusion for a moment. Freddy stops squeezing your hand.  
"Anyway, I brought you here to show you where we're having our date tomorrow night."  
'We're having a date?' is what you wanted to shout, but now you were back in reality, listening to the irritating blare of your alarm.

Horace: You were impatiently waiting every day for Horace again. This time, however, he returned just two days later, at about nine in the morning.  
Last time you say each other, he promised to come back and introduce you to magic. This is a rare, undiscovered ability that's uncommon enough nowadays to be considered fictional, and he said he had some, but you might have some as well! That made you buzz with joy. Your parents asked why you were so full of vivacity all of a sudden, even asking if there was a new man in your life. Well, you bet if they just looked out onto the beach, they could see his ride.  
The mother ship had finally dropped off Horace. Today he was with some other people. One was amazingly tall, with antlers. Was it some kind of deer? The other person seemed to be a boy with really thin arms wearing a hat.  
After the last group, you realized you probably had to be ready for anything.  
You weren't prepared.  
The deer-like one turned out to be some sort of huge...Centipede (?) with antlers. They smelled terribly of carnage.  
The other one, the boy, had one eye, stitches running down the right side of their face, and they were rotting.  
You gagged quite a bit, while Horace seemed just right and used to it.  
"Oy, girlie! Where could we settle?"  
That was Philip, the fly headed man from yesterday. What's he doing here?  
" 'Orace figured he'd need a few mo' things ta see if you're really magic."  
Ok. That makes a lot more sense.  
Philip pulls up the extra boat. It's just like the other, except it's stuffed full of all sorts of strange items.  
There's strange, light blue feathers. You feel strongly inclined to take one.  
There's ugly little fat mushrooms. They're moving.  
There's even stuff that most would plainly describe as 'Demon summoning' stuff, like chalk, a few mice (still alive, likely not for long), and a book of patterns.  
Fly unloads a lot of the stuff out onto the beach as Horace comes over to talk to you.  
"So, (Y/N), Lass, how are ya?"  
"Oh, I'm fine! I actually went surfing for a while yesterday!"  
He nods.  
"So, uh, I was thinkin', since I'd like to see if your magic..."  
Yeah?  
"And the rest a the crew isn't needed from now on..."  
Mm-hmm?  
"Could we consider it a date?"  
"Sure!"

Bill: You were sleeping. That, of course, was a mistake.  
It was a dark castle. Very derse, if you know Homestuck. If not, it was short, yet still grand, not in size, but some unknowable splendor.  
You were pacing in one of the towers. This dream was much more controllable than you'd like.  
You hear footsteps. Heavy footsteps.  
"Oh, shit," you say, searching for something to hide with.  
Under the bad?  
Nope. Spiders.  
The dresser?  
You open it, only to be slapped by an icy wind. It takes a while to close.  
They're right outside your door now, seemingly trying to find the right key.  
Uhm, where can you hide? Where to hide, where to hide...  
They enter. The person slaps their palm down on a desk when they realize you are gone.  
You silently breath a sigh of relief from under that very desk a moment later. They begin wandering around the room, checking every shadowy corner and crevice for you.  
They're across the room, but you've already realized the fault of your plan.  
He's going to see me sooner or later you think. Tears from the fear and pressure accumulate in the corners of your eyes.  
They begin getting violent, tearing down whatever it is that does not reveal their prize not a moment after.  
They tear down the dresser, which you believed to be nailed to the wall, and walk back to the desk.  
They slowly, almost painfully slow, open each and every drawer and let them fall to the floor, as if you could have fit in any one of them.  
"CRASH!" all of them go as they hit the ground. A pencil rolls out from the pile of the random desk hoard and stops at your side.  
Then, finally, there's nowhere left to hide. They know where you are.  
They crouch down, sliding the dense, large, throne-like chair away from you.  
An unruly tear slips away, sliding down your cheek, only to fall and drip onto the floor.  
You close your eyes. Whatever they do, whether they throw you out of the window, or toss you roughly at a wall, or torture you, you never want to see their face.  
Nothing.  
Nothing is happening.  
You don't hear the breaking of glass as if something large is being thrown through it, nor the lurking stench of blood you imagine a torture chamber having.  
Or anything that could imply pain. You actually just feel...  
Watched.  
You slowly open your eves to see some blond guy in some jeans and a t-shirt crouched down by the desk, staring at you.  
"Hey there, (Y/N)! Where you scared?"  
You're actually frozen in shock, if that counts.  
"Anyway, get out from under there! There's definitely nothing worth staring at in there."  
You kinda can't help it. It's like you're not in your own control. Like you're some kind of meat puppet.  
"Anyway, I fixed up that old piece of rubbish there." He gestures to the broken pile that was the dresser.  
"Go ahead and choose out a nice dress."  
"Wait, why?"  
"'Why?' You say? Our outing, of course!"  
He throws his hands up in obvious shock.  
"I told you the last time I saw you! Silly kid! Anyway, choose out your favorite, and see me outside when you're done!"  
He flicks his wrist towards the desiccated dresser, and you watch in awe as parts of it spiral upward to land in new places, in totally different combinations than before.  
It becomes a dresser. However, now it is more intricately decorated.  
You open it to see possibly hundreds of dresses extending for miles, probably.  
You're first date, and you weren't even aware that it was going to happen until right before it.

Kevin: Ahh, the common cubicle workplace! The smell of sweat, the cat posters, and the drooping cloud of boredom all weighing down on you like a branch, freshly fallen from the tree right when you were below it.  
Today was you're one week anniversary here. You've been paid decently so far.  
Things aren't that bad. You have a chain of sticky notes trailing around the drab grey walls and there's already a stain on the floor from when you tripped and spilled some strange coffee that Kevin was handing out.  
"Here you go, (Y/N)! This one's especially for you, for working so very hard!" he had said, giving you the only one with a lid. Just as you began to get a look at its contents, you tripped over some small, fuzzy, orange creature that wasn't there before that was in your cubicle.  
Kevin almost dropped the entire drink tray shuffling over to make sure you were okay.  
"Whoopsie! You tripped on your new Strex-Pet!"  
"What are you talking about?"  
"Why, that adorable little guy there," he said, pointing down to some furby.  
"Anyway," he starts," we better get back to work. Ok everyone? (Y/N) is okay."  
No one was looking in the first place.  
He gives you a hand top help you up.  
"Before I go, here's a consolation coffee. May our smiling god shine down on you especially."  
Here you are, four days later. Kevin's been helping you a lot, giving you snacks and drinks, and sometimes a pad of sticky notes or a can of paper clips.  
Everyone else is too busy working to really make any sort of connection with you, with the acception of your boss.  
"Why, (Y/N), you're the most productive worker this week! That earns a mention from Kevin!"  
You consider having your name spat into a microphone for all of this town to hear.  
You can hear a quick shuffling coming towards your cubicle.  
"Did you hear that, everyone?" Kevin said into a microphone with its wire stretched thin.  
"(Y/N)'s the most productive employee this week!"  
The room breaks out into a flat rumbling. It actually takes a moment for it to register as applause.  
Mr. Namtar leaves the cubicle entrance, so you turn back around to face your work.  
You didn't expect Kevin to still be there.  
"(Y/N)?"  
You jump.  
"Ah!"  
You see Kevin standing in the entrance, twirling his finger awkwardly in the little bit of slack wire he could collect.  
"Are you free after work? For some coffee?"  
You're highly surprised at his offer. Most days it seemed like he wanted to stay in, "decorate", or just idly file some papers.  
"I mean, maybe," he stretched out the 'maybe' in the cute way he did sometimes," as a date?"  
"Sure! I'll see you then!"  
He walks away after stretching his already wide permanent smile even wider.


	5. The date!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so the thing about this chapter is that I have included a writing challenge. I had to include a new, strange word into each of their stories. Go ahead and check how well I did!

Jeff: It was finally the day, Reader! You were all spruced up, wearing just enough makeup to add the right "razzle dazzle" and you were wearing an outfit you had bought just for this moment!  
Ah, love. You think you finally found it in the independent boy next door.  
You finally arrived at his place. He would be driving you to the fireworks show.  
You walk up to the porch and knock on the door. He takes a moment to answer.  
"Hey there, sweetheart! Ready to go?" He says through the cracked door.  
You nod for a yes, but you also can't help but want to ask to be let inside. Not for water or the bathroom, but just to see the furniture, or his parents, or any sign that this place was truly a home.  
You don't say so, though.  
He slips out, not wanting you to see the house in your mind, and locks the door as you step down to the car.  
"So, how's school?" he says, entering the car.  
"Oh it's going fi-"  
You both catch each others eyes. His are deep, as if he hasn't slept in weeks.  
Yours are bright, filled with energy and mirth.  
You share this glance for one long second.  
It invokes some strange feelings. One is obviously love. The other is a stranger. It feel like you could see all his secrets, all of his story, if you just sat where you were, maintaining eye contact.  
It feels like he could see all of you as well.  
"-ne."  
"Oh. That's good."  
You both drove with few words shared between you.  
The show had already started when you both got there.  
You two rushed out, grabbing his lawn chairs before going for the field where you'd be watching from.  
An hour later, you leave.  
"The show was spectacular!"  
"Yeah! The way they had the-the sparkly mushroom ones before the glitter bombs?"  
"And the raining sparks before the gunshot!"  
"That was amazing!"  
You share a laugh at the beautiful memory you two just collected. He looks at you, and you look at him. The feeling that you could pry through his very being occurs again.  
"Hey, (Y/N)?"  
"Yeah, Jeff?"  
"Did you mean to leave all that lip gloss on your mouth? That's not like you. Why don't I help you take it off."  
Kissing innuendo! He must really like you, Reader!  
He's the first to lean forward, with you joining in a moment later, eager to meet what some would call a milestone in your relationship.  
Now, let's just say that he got off most of your lip gloss.  
When you part for the last time, you notice the clock.  
"It's almost ten! we've gotta go!"  
Of course, you wouldn't be as eager to leave if your mom hadn't set a curfew.  
OPIA: THE FEELING OF LOOKING SOMEONE IN THE EYE AND HAVING IT BE SIMULTANEOUSLY INVASIVE AND VULNERABLE.

Freddy: Wait a second. You need to clear some things up.  
1: You're going on a date with Freddy Krueger tonight.  
2: It's at the local roller rink.  
3: He'd probably drag himself into the physical plane to get you there.  
That's a little better...  
No, it's not.  
It's already way past your bed time when you knock out.  
"Hey, Honey. It looks like you didn't even bother to dress up," he says, unimpressed sounding. You knew he had a smirk, though.  
You open your eyes to see Freddy above you. You push him away and sit up, noticing you're in the same t-shirt and pajama pants you passed out in.  
You huff and stand up, look Freddy in the eye, and say, "get me the f- out of here."  
Er, that's what you wanted to do. You were already wearing your skates, apparently. You started slowly rolling away from him, towards the empty rink, outside of your own control.  
Looking out at the empty rink, which was always full of shoving, angry people when you were there, scared you a little bit. A part of the fun was seeing all the people, and this strange dream world stripped it of that.  
You blink at the empty space before turning back around to face the dream demon who you just left behind.  
He was right behind you.  
"C'mon! Let's get out on the floor!"  
He promptly begins dragging you out, from the carpeted arcade floor to the smooth wooden skating floor.  
Just like last time, you begin to slip around instead of slide.  
Like the snide ass he is, he continues to skate forward, apparently not aware of your problem. He leaves you behind.  
You stop and breath a sigh of relief when you see him pass you. You think you could leave this place, and maybe grab a drink on the way out, when you feel someone going pretty fast grab your side from behind.  
He's dragging you along now. Freddy's got you in a tight grip, and obviously isn't intent on letting go.  
"Let's get a drink."  
He throws his skates down onto the rubber brake, stopping both of you. Your legs fly forward, almost dragging the rest of your body along with them, but, thank goodness, surprisingly, he holds on.  
He leads you over to the snack bar, which, yet again, is uncomfortably empty.  
Freddy glides up, rolls you over to a table where you promptly sit down, totally comfortable to never skate again, when he rings the bell.  
Freddy rang the "service please" bell as if there were anyone but you two there.  
He begins to look impatient as you look on, laughing.  
"That's it. I'm getting this food myself," he says, hopping the counter, grabbing a frozen yogurt cup.  
You take a moment to look around at the empty warehouse-like room.  
The arcade, normally alive and buzzing like a beehive, is silent and dark. You guess Freddy didn't feel like turning those on.   
He did, however, feel like turning on and using almost all of the snack machines, bringing at least a sample of each to you.  
"Go ahead and eat all you want, whatever is here. Doesn't matter to me if it's in a cup, bowl, or my mouth..."  
He took too long to speak. you were already stuffing your face with frozen yogurt. The colourful swirls matched the tasty fruity flavor of it amazingly well.  
Fred notices this and watches you joyfully eat scoop after scoop. Eventually, there's only one spoonful left.  
Which another spoon swoops down to take.  
"Hey! I was eating that!"  
"Come and get it!" he mumbled through the fro-yo.  
You squint at the obvious challenge. You're feeling a little loopy (best pun I've ever made) so you actually consider French kissing it out of his mouth.  
And you accept.  
It's sugary. And fruity. And you think it'd him,  but something tastes like smoke smells. You grab his face in the moment.  
You're surprised you're so desperate for the "frozen yogurt".  
KENOPSIA: THE EERIE, LONELY FEELING FROM A PLACE NORMALLY BUSTLING THAT IS NOW ABANDON AND QUIET

Horace Horrible: This is so sudden, and really surprising, honestly.  
"It's with the love of your life!" one part of you though.  
"He's practically a stranger! Those weird mushrooms will kill you for all you know! You can't marry a man you just met!" said the other side.  
The physical you kept on answering Horace's questions as he said them.  
"Have ye ever had a impulse to, er... Fly?"  
"An attraction to dead things?"  
"No? How about a abundance of luck?"  
You'd never really had any of those before last month. You had been wanting to fly again ever since Horace had kissed you, and you'd felt extremely lucky he chose to meet you, on that beach, instead of someone else's.  
But the dead thing never came your way.  
Anyway, you continued to fight with yourself as Horace was preparing all sort of strange items and machinery. The sky goes from the light grey and blue of morning, to the scorching yellows and oranges of midday.  
Finally, when the clutter of small objects was formed into some sort of maze of larger objects, Horace said you could start poking and playing with them.  
You start at the feathers, of course.  
"The , uh, feathers ye got thar are from th' Ibon bird, from 'a Abyss." He's still throwing together most of the objects across the junk pile from you. "Twirl them around. See if an'thing happens."  
You do. You floss it between your fingers, twist it around a single finger, even going on to flick it. It glimmers when you touch it.  
"If it don't try to flap or anything, try another"  
You do. You go on and poke at some doll heads (Creepy, but no sign of magic), balloons (they smell of carnage and cinnamon!), and a strange clawed glove (Freddy Krueger much), among a ton of other strange artifacts.  
You're fairly certain it was almost night when you dragged your feet to the final station. It's the summoning set you saw earlier, when Horace's crew first showed up that morning.  
You pick up the small stack of papers next to the cage of  mice, inside of a small crate of other things you assume are for this project. They seem to know that whatever is in store for them won't be healthy, being that they were gnawing on the little metal bars closest to the box.  
Step 1: Draw a pattern with the chalk on the black board using only circles.  
You draw a simple couple of dots touching each other.  
Step 2: Put on gloves.  
You look into the square and see a strange, inky black, and scaly looking pair of gloves. They fit well and are thick.  
Step 3: Grab a mouse.  
You open up the trap door on top of the cage and reach in. All of the mice scurry into the corners of the cage. You reach over and get one anyway. It's really trying to get at your hand now, biting and writhing, trying to escape your grasp. You don't even think you're gripping that hard, but they seem to be unable to get free.  
Step 4: Ask the most beautiful, daring, and vain pirate you know for help.  
You smile a little at this show of narcissism.  
"Hey, Horace-"  
He's already right beside you, hands behind his back, seemingly ready for any questions you may have.  
He looks at your little pattern.  
"Fer that pattern, ya want ta put the mouse in th' very middle," He says, with you intent and grasping onto is every word like an eager student.  
"Then, ye need ta give it a couple a' sharp jabs in the belly."  
You poke it a few times while holding it down. Nothing happens.  
"Try it again."  
You do, watching as nothing happens. You suddenly get a sharp and painful feeling in your stomach, as if you're the mouse you were abusing a moment ago. It's sort of a sense of not belonging, like you should tear out of there and run up to the house, away from this awkward situation.  
You stop, releasing the mouse, watching it scuttle away and off the table, and look up at Horace, at his normally smiling, happy face, which now wears a tight frown.  
"I'm so sorry," you say, with the phrase decorated in a sob.  
"For what, Lass? Y' did nothin' wrong, just not magic. That's alright."  
You two embrace by your whim as tears begin streaming down your face. You weren't sad, so why were you crying?  
You were upset. It's alright. As people have said, pain demands to be felt.  
Horace and you stayed together until the clouds began going purple with dusk.  
"Yer not magic, but who cares, Lass? I don't and it seems yer pretty fine without it," he said, comforting you.  
"B-but what if-"  
He cut you off with a kiss.  
Sometimes, actions speak louder than words, reader.  
MONACHOPSIS: THE FEELING OF BEING SEVERELY OUT OF PLACE

Bill: You huff, facing the hallway of clothes where, just a moment ago, was a Siberian tundra.  
"Hurry up, please! We've got a feast to attend to down here!" calls Bill from the other side of the door.  
Recently he's taken a strange new form. It's really weirding you out.  
Mostly because he has hair. And two eyes. And a human shade of skin.  
His hair's the best shade of dark chocolate, with blonde hairs popping out once in a while if you focus.  
His eyes are black and almost seem to have a slit, like a cats eye. You haven't quite decided yet.  
And, finally, his skin is nice. "Nice," was your first thought upon seeing him.  
(I hate to leave a gap, but I'd prefer if you decide whether he's African-American, Indian, white, or any nationality)  
You take an experimental step over the step between the floor of the attic of your tower and the wardrobe room.  
It smells great, somehow remaining just enough paces away from perfume store to smell pleasant.  
You take a few glances around. Contradictory to a lot of other fanfictions ( read that with as much snark as you want), these dresses came in all sorts of looks and colour, from red to blue to green.  
You search.  
Eventually, quite a way in, you find the perfect dress. It has just enough sequins to pop, but not so many that it'd be obnoxious, and a nice amount of red and blue, which were somehow balanced out to go together on this amazing dress.  
You put it on and look at yourself in the mirror.  
Oh...  
Reader...  
It's AMAZING!  
You're absolutely fabulous in that! You were great before, but in this dress, if someone were to fix your hair, you'd be stunning!  
You wish that you could tell younger you that, just to help them relax about growing up.  
You smile at yourself anyway.  
"I have to face him at some point," you say, stepping out of the wardrobe to let Bill in.  
"Hey there, (Y/N)! I see ya picked out an amazing dress there! What'd you think of my outfit?"  
He promptly glimmers, all over, before you see him wearing a tuxedo matching yours.  
You scoff silently at this strange yet kind of couple-y move and allow him to lead you downstairs, through the winding, ancient-looking staircase.  
"Wait, we're just going to show up to a medieval meal like," you gesture up and down you both, "this?"  
"What do you mean? It's not like I'd let them hurt me or my favorite lady-"  
You give him a look that says you're not quite close enough for that yet.  
He rolls his eyes. "Fine. I'll fix this up a bit."  
He swirls a hand in the air for a moment, letting it collect something from the air. For a moment, you think it's just cobwebs, but they're too gold for that.  
Swiftly, he throws his arm down and snaps. The shimmering webs explode, blinding you.  
You don't feel any explicit pain like you would expect from an explosive going off, but instead you felt something winding its way around you. Around your feet, arms, and head. You couldn't move for a moment, in which it felt as if small, fairy-like hands were rubbing vigorously, sort of like they were cleaning.  
Less than a minute later, you could move and see again. You opened your eyes to automatically see Bill. Now he's practically iridescent due to being so clean. He gasps a little bit, giggles, and leads you the rest of the way down.  
"But what if they hurt u-"  
Bill stops at the end of the steps, letting go of your hand so that you don't fall. You trip into a grand room, full of food, people, and amazing furnishings.  
Your eyes widen upon seeing this room full of so much beauty. Most of the people turn and say hello to Bill as he tries successfully to introduce you to the entire mob.  
After hours of people, food, and dancing, you were worn out.  
"Well, that brings an end to your evening with the dream people."  
"What do you mean by that?" You were beginning to think you've said too many question words tonight.  
"They're those who have died in there sleep, kid. They get stuck here and get to float around and eat for the rest of their lives. It's pretty great."  
"They... All float here?"  
He smiles at you.  
"Yeah. Like one of your ever-so-famous fictional characters said, in a different context, 'They all float here.'"  
You laugh together.  
He sighs before saying, " Yeah, but it's getting early. You have to leave now."  
You put on a look of sadness and look down. You can already kind of notice it. The edges of your vision were going light.  
"Bye, Bill."  
He doesn't even say bye. He simply grabs your jaw and, gently yet quickly, brings your mouth to his, just before you awoke in your plain reality.  
You lay for a moment, remembering the days when you were little, dreaming maybe once or twice about how you would grow up and have the best boyfriend. How you wish you could tell them everything turns out alright.  
ÉNOUEMENT: THE BITTERSWEET FEELING OF HAVING ARRIVED IN THE FUTURE, SEEN HOW IT TURNS OUT, AND NOT BEING ABLE TO TELL A YOUNGER YOU WHAT HAPPENED.

Kevin: Kevin just asked you out.  
The "coolest" (I use that loosely) guy in office just asked you out.  
Sure, it was to celebrate a recent employee of the day type thing, but it was also pretty darn obvious that he was trying to get closer to you.  
Anyway, just before leaving, you took a break in the bathroom to freshen up a bit.  
You walk out, practically right into Kevin's arms.  
"Hey, (Y/N). Are you ready to go out?"  
It seems he's also put on a little bit of makeup, just to highlight the gaping holes of his eyes a little bit.  
"Yeah! Let's get going!"  
You both wander out to the parking lot, making sure to take the time to fill out the proper paperwork all young couples about to go on a date must fill out before dropping it into the nearest bush.  
There it is. On your right a few minutes later.  
Minuette's Coffee, Pastries, and Organs.  
The best café in town.  
Minny greets you on your way in, chittering out a hello from one of her many mouths while serving coffee to another customer and reaching across a table for a plate with another and hugging someone with one on the left and waving at you and Kevin with another.  
Kevin leads you to a small booth before asking you what you want.  
"Just a coffee, lightly sweetened, and a blueberry muffin please."  
He goes to order these as you look at the sign towards the front with posts about the Bluffs all over it.  
"Reward for capture of no headed lizard"  
"Flat cats found in public bathrooms"  
"Local radio host soon to get a date"  
Pretty much just your average news. Er, your average Night Vale news. Sort of. It was kind of like they were twisted for this town.  
Anyway, Kevin comes back a minute later wielding two drinks and some pastries.  
"Here's your drink." He places a blue cup with a top in front of you.  
"And these are mine." He sets down a cup, an almost exact replica of yours, but without the top, and a glazed donut  across the table from you.  
He finally sits down, placing your muffin next to your drink as he takes a sip of his drink.  
You're just about to take a sip of your drink through the straw when Kevin says, "Actually, (Y/N), why don't you take a quick look at the drink? Make sure it's the right colour and all."  
It was such a simple command that you just shrugged and obeyed, like any good citizen.  
You had a small double take. On the inside, there was a anatomically correct heart made in some kind of watery caramel-ly stuff.  
You gasp, barely audibly. Kevin laughs in a polite way.  
"I knew you would love it! This was such a great use of time!"  
You two finish your date with polite conversation. Both of you were talking, but neither were listening.  
"Hey, Kev, do I owe you anything for that?"  
"Of course not, (Y/N)! I'll see you at work tomorrow."  
He looks around swiftly.  
"Could we share a kiss? Just a quick one. I promise I don't bite."  
And you said yes.  
ANEDOCHE: A CONVERSATION WITH NO LISTENERS  
Actually, I wrote the story before I read Kev's word, so I just kind of tossed it in.


	6. An accident!

Jeff: Officially being in a relationship is one of the best decisions you've ever made.  
You met up every day, whether it was at the park, your school's entrance, or just the local shopping mart to loiter and talk until you were kicked out.  
Today you wanted him to meet your parents. Before that, though, you're going for a walk.  
"Sweetheart, there is no way that your parents will like me."  
You look at him in a way that easily tells him to not be so self conscious.  
He looks back in a way that says that he still doubts himself.  
The both of you are walking through your neighborhood at random, turning down whichever street smells the best or has a nice looking house or two.  
The two of you are just so happy! Who knew the cheapest you had to pay nowadays for a good date was nothing but energy?  
Jeff tells a great joke about a piano, a tuna fish, and a bucket of glue when he pauses. You've been relying on him to know if you were about to walk into something for a while now due to being so focused on him and what he was saying, so you stop as well.  
"Hm? What's wrong?"  
"Get behind me, (Y/N)," he says grimly.  
That's when you finally look down the street in front of you. There's a filthy person there, not much more intimidating than you alone. With the gun in their hands though, you'd kiss their shoes if they commanded it.  
"Get behind me," Jeff said with more force than last time.  
The robber stares at you two.  
You hear, slightly muffled from behind Jeff, "I want all your money," from the kid.  
"Sure, sure. Let me empty my -"  
Then, Jeff yanks a knife out of his pocket.  
Hm, Knife in a gunfight? Not a great choice in my opinion.  
You can feel Jeff shake a little as he realizes that he's more likely to go out than get out of this scene. In the window of the house next to you that people are starting to stare.  
The person in the window disappears for a moment.  
"No" you say, detaching yourself from Jeff's back.  
They reappear at the door. The robber glances at them, their gun shaking a little more.  
"No!" you scream.  
The following things happen almost at once.  
Jeff attempts to stab the thief with a large, golf-worthy swing back, leaving his midsection open for attack. The stranger that's trying to help starts running towards you three. You fall on your butt a few feet away from Jeff. The vagabond shoots, perfectly aimed at Jeff's chest.  
He does end up jabbing the knife into the robbers head, throwing them back. You watch the gash shoot black, almost purple, foaming blood in impossible amounts onto the green grass of a lawn. Jeff also flops to the ground, sending a small touch of blood on the road that quickly grows into a gory puddle of blood.  
There's nothing left to do here. The kind stranger is calling the police, telling them a theft gone wrong just took place while you cry, letting your tears, glimmering like obsidian, fall onto the ground.  
You're on the rough, slightly moist gravel of the street, resting Jeff's head in your lap. He's despondent. You talk to him through your sobs and tears anyway.  
"I never got to tell you," you sniff in, "that I've loved you since the day you helped me. They would have hurt me. Then, you came along and gave me true love. I-" you sniff in again, longer, trying to hold something in more, before telling Jeff the last words he would hear.   
"I love you."

Freddy: The day was lost to the night. You watched the horizon devour the sun in a fiery display of shades of orange before settling down to bed for the evening.  
It's much later when you see the sky again. The sky is now dark and flat, as if it were a large piece of black fabric closing you into this area. You are surrounded by tall, wide buildings. You seem to be in the center of some sort of factory. You look skyward, finally noticing how the sky looks unlike any other sky you had ever seen.   
There are cars honking from behind a building. You jerk around to face it.  
A man is running from them!  
There's a small league of about three cars on the tail of the man.  
They're coming closer.  
You try to get a look at the man as he dashes past, to see if it'd be worth being that close to some crazy car maniacs.  
Wait a second...!  
That's Freddy!  
You think...  
They kind of look like him, but with, like, skin.  
They tear past you, intent, it seems, for a specific building to hide in.  
You join the chase as well, hoping the cars that are a little less than ten feet away don't decide to go for you too.  
Freddy enters the building, slamming the door shut behind him.  
"Hey! Let me in! I'm (Y/N), not those weird car chasers!"  
Your pleas apparently fell on mute ears. Freddy leaves you out in the cold as he hides in the safe bowels of an abandon building.  
You look up again. You now notice that there are multiple dark grey towers towering above you.  
The chasers are getting out of their cars. One of them curses.  
"We lost 'em!"  
"Don't get upset, there's more than one way to take care of him."  
One unlocks the trunk of their car, pulling out a large red container.  
You don't know how they haven't noticed you yet, but now you take your chances and yell, "Just you try to hurt Freddy!"  
They seem to ignore you, pouring the contents of the container on and around the building.  
"Hey! I said listen to me, you-"  
You basically went off on them. You followed some of them in one of the groups that were going around spreading red containers.  
They regroup at the cars a while later. You, upset yet satisfied with the information that they can't hear you for some reason, join them.  
"Burn the b----- down!"  
Oh no.  
OOHH NNOOO.  
They're going to burn the building down with Freddy inside!  
They gather around a small, growing light. You rush for the metal wall, banging and screaming, anything to rescue your, uh, very close friend.  
However, in the end, it's no use. The place goes up in flames. There's nothing you can do now.  
But....  
Yeah! There, peeking out of the flames!  
He's going to make it out!  
You rush towards the area it looks like he'll run out through, as close to the intense heat as you dared, ready to celebrate him making it out of the inferno.  
He runs closer and closer to an exit. He's obviously terrified, taking turns and looking around at random, a little bit like a deer being chased.  
Finally, he flops out onto the hard, frozen ground, way more hot than usual.  
He's...  
Dead.

Horace Horrible: It's the month of April when the next milestone in your relationship happens.  
The day started with you being beamed by a seagull.  
"Ew! Little cretin!" you cried out, highly disgruntled.  
The sky was light grey by seven in the afternoon. You were eating dinner outside, waiting for the arrival of Horace's large ship.  
You threw the rest of your meal into the water before retreating up the path home to wash yourself off.  
In the bathroom of your parents house, you looked out of the window. The sky is a shade of dark blue. It goes well with the slightly darker blue of the ocean, where you finally saw a brown dot a few minutes later.  
The rest of the next hour is spent on the beach and throughout the range of emotions.  
You start off feeling joyful due to the arrival of your boyfr- close friend.  
Then confused. There's a large uneaten portion of your meal by Horace's smaller boat that he's rowing ashore.  
Which molds into fear, as there are sharks around here.  
Sheer terror corrupts a shriek out of your throat when you see the food go underwater and, a moment later, something shake Horace's boat.  
Terror stays at command as his boat capsizes.  
Nothing happens.

Bill: Today's the four day anniversary since you and Bill have considered each other worthy of potentially spending prolonged amounts of time with in a way slightly more than platonic. Of course you two are going to do a little something to celebrate.  
It involves going to the park.  
"I remember one of the last times I got a physical form, I spent quite some time on one of these," he said, sitting down on the seat of a swing.  
"Who was it?" you asked. It seemed like all you were ever doing was asking questions when you were with Bill.  
"Eh. Just some short kid with a attitude problem. I made sure to mess with him before I left."  
You shrugged off the fact that he likely killed them.  
The slide of the public park is festooned with various burns and tattooed with vulgar symbols and phrases. If you went down it, you might come out straight into the Devil's throne room itself, so you didn't go there first.  
Instead, you look at the rock wall.  
Hm. Same as the slide, but less of a smooth ride down. There's an obscenity on every stone.  
Next up is the swings!  
They're relatively filthy, just like the other major playground equipment. However, they're not downright unusable, so you and Bill plant yourselves down next to each other.  
"If you could be any bird, which one would you be?"  
You think for a while.  
"Whichever one flies the highest!"  
You start accelerating as fast as you can on the little plastic swing. Bill starts as well. Soon enough, it's a contest of trying to see who can fly higher than the other.  
"Hey wa-tch th-," you wheezed for a moment,"-is."  
You decided to throw yourself into the air, gliding away from the tall swing set and Bill to land, feet first, on the mulch a few feet away.  
"Hey! I bet I could do that!"  
Bill began swinging faster and faster, going from one full swing per second to one and a half, then two. You didn't even think that was possible in this plane of existence.  
Then, he throws himself up. He seems to be trying a flip. One revelation, one and a half, two, two and a ha-  
CRASH!  
Bill's kind of... Ah, he's kind of in an awkward position. By awkward, I mean it would look like, for a moment, if you were filming this incident, that he was trying to simultaneously fly, do a flip, and stand on his head. Now, he's flat on his back, with the gory patch that is the top of his head facing you.  
"B-Bill?"  
No response, except for the smell of blood, comes from Bill.

Kevin: Say, reader, your workplace romance with Kevin's getting pretty heated, isn't it?  
Just yesterday he bought you a space heater.  
No, really. He came over to your apartment for the first time.  
"It's kind of chilly in here! Does it get cold in here at night?" he asked. His genuine care for you was so sweet that you let him buy you a space heater, which arrived at your doorstep almost automatically.  
"It's because everyone here always works so much! That reminds me, we better get back to work!"  
That sentence ended his visit and started your workday.  
Today at work, you're organizing the collection of papers and files that you have. They're all over the place! Taped onto the walls, thrown around and stacked on the floor, under your Strex-Pet.  
So, anyway, over the course of three hours and two brief drink breaks, neither of which you saw anyone else outside of their cubicles or offices, you finally had most of your office picked up.  
Now, all that was left was the clump of wires under your desk.  
All the colourful little string-like wires had tangled so badly in the last two weeks that one of them, the wire for your monitor, had fallen out.  
Now's the time that ends.  
You unplug all of the wires beforehand. Then you crawl under your desk and a little behind it to begin the real job.  
"Hey there, Dearie! What're you doing down there?"  
"Hey, Kevin! My computer wasn't working too well because all the wires were tangled up, so I-"  
"Then you can help me for the radio show! I'll just call the janitor down here to take care of that so you can get back to work."  
Honestly, you'd really like a break to sit down and do something tedious like a puzzle or fix a knot. But because Kevin is your very close more-than-friend, you couldn't help the invitation to hang out with him in his office.  
He leads you through the labyrinth of thin hallways, so thin that you have to walk behind him, until you reach the main room.  
The recording studio.  
It's pretty normal for Desert Bluffs standards. A little bit of blood here and there. A slightly gored Strex-Pet cowering in the corner. Temmy's Theme (the Undertale one) is muddling quietly from somewhere. There' a hairy lump in the middle of the room.  
"So, do you like it?"  
Who wants to insult a perfectly good boyfr- very close friend that one may consider eligible to grow old with?  
"Yeah. It's great."  
"Wonderful! Now, let me see, you could, uh..." He starts wondering around quickly, looking for a lost file or out of place paper.  
He takes a look at the computer.  
"Organize my computer files!"  
You look at his device. It's absolutely ancient! It has a full foot of white plastic protecting its wires behind it. The last time you saw one of these, you were in public school!  
"...Sure!"  
"Thanks! I'll be back in a little!"  
Now's time to get to work on the dinosaur.  
He's got, like, a crazy amount of files! There's so many cat videos...  
You slowly work through them. Slowly, not so that you're sure that you don't accidentally delete tomorrow's weather, but because this computer runs like your grandmother.  
It's an hour later. The computer's growling and lightly smoking. You're more focused on getting the spacebar to work.  
"How far in are yo- (Y/N)!"  
"Yeah, what's the problem, Kev?"  
The unpleasant smell of smoke finally reaches your nose.  
Kevin gasps. He jumps forward, sliding a little on the hairy thing on the carpet (IS IT A SCALP), throws the Strex-Pet onto your lap, and roughly pushes the swivel chair you're in away, and out of the door.  
"Kev-"  
Then there was a pop.  
Then there was fire.  
You saw him illuminated there, as if it were your first day here again, before losing sight of him.


End file.
